Untold Fairy Tale
by Magi Silverwolf
Summary: Fairy tales don't tell children that dragons exist. Children are rarely the ones so blind as to not see them. (HC fill; MC4A fill)


**Disclaimer:** I do not own the original canon nor am I making any profit from writing this piece. All works are accredited to their original authors, performers, and producers while this piece is mine. No copyright infringement is intended. I acknowledge that all views and opinions expressed herein are merely my interpretations of the characters and situations found within the original canon and may not reflect the views and opinions of the original author(s), producer(s), and/or other people.

 **Warnings:** This story may contain material that is not suitable for all audiences and may offend some readers. Please utilize understanding of personal sensitivities before and while reading.

 **Author's Note (Generic Note for the** _ **Houses Competition**_ **):** All my works should be considered to be Not Epilogue Compliant and I treat everything that is not the HP books and the Hogwarts Library Collection as _apocrypha_ (supplementary to canon but still outside of it) and treat it as such. I also make a policy of not ignoring abusive and distasteful actions/decisions of characters and not handwaving the effects of trauma experienced by characters. If you feel that a character isn't acting like their "canon self" chances are good that it's because of one of these two things and they are merely displaying a more realistic response than they did in canon.

 **Author's Note:** On a personal note, there is something which had always bothered me about the basic setup of the HPverse. I know from reading HP fanfiction for almost twenty years that I am not alone in that feeling. In the coursework of my literature classes, _fairy tales_ are often pointed towards as one of the common ways that we teach our children morality and values, even though the interpretations can leave some room for improvement. One of the things most people do not realize is that it's actually a pretty rare for a story to have a completely happy ending.

 **Competition/Challenge Block:**  
 **Stacked with:** Houses Competition (Term 03); MC4A  
 **House:** Hufflepuff  
 **Category:** Drabble (200 – 750 words)  
 **Prompt:** Once upon a time (first line)  
 **Representations:** Government Service; Potters  
 **Bonus Challenges:** n/a  
 **Word Count:** 730

-= LP =-  
Untold Fairy Tale  
-= LP =-

Once upon a time, there was a boy whose parents loved him. Despite them being so young, they had already lost several children before managing to have him. Even with him, it had been a near thing because he had been born a month early. Only the rare gift of magic that ran through the veins of all members of the society he had been born into had saved him. Thus, his parents treasured their son from the moment he was born, understanding in the way that only those who have suffered great loss just how precious life was.

In addition to his loving parents, the boy had many other people who loved him. He had a godfather who thought he was better than all the stars in the heavens and who was madly protective of him. He had an uncle who loved nothing better than sneaking the little boy drops of hot cocoa while they read by the fire. He had a godmother with a little boy only a day older than him.

But a great evil lurked in the shadows, threatening the idyllic world to which the boy had been born.

Actually, the world was not as idyllic as it would seem, but the little boy didn't know that. He was, after all, just a little boy, not even two. The world had been taken over long before the little boy had been born. Taken over was a bit more aggressive for what had happened. The world had eagerly leaped into its controller's weakly-protesting hands.

The world—really just the people of a couple small islands—thought the man _brilliant_ and _too good_ to ever harm them. They believed it with all of their hearts and were willing to fight anyone who said differently. They ignored how with the man at the helm of their school, the standards had dropped to where people outside their country laughed when they claimed their school was the best. They ignored how the man didn't prevent do anything to fight against injustice despite being the head of their legislative and judicial body. They ignored the same when he became first their voice to the international group of magical humans and then the head of it. All the while, the people continued to declare the man the greatest wizard since Merlin, if not the greatest of all time. The island's magical culture was decaying all around them and none of them were doing anything to stop it.

To make this dark period even worse, another man began to gather forces to oppose the first. Their battle grew in ferociousness for all that most of the people stayed as uninvolved as possible. Many people died or simply disappeared and at times it seemed hopeless. What did it matter who won when the world would end either way?

But in the darkness came a single glimmer of hope in the form of a prophecy that promised a vanquisher would be born to end the war.

The boy knew nothing about any of that. He was just a little boy. He understood that his family loved him. He understood his godfather could turn into a doggy and loved to give kisses that way. He understood that his uncle shared his sweet stuff and did the best voices. He understood that his father could make peas fly and his mother had the best singing voice but his godmother had the best toys. He knew nothing about a war or a prophecy or a world dying through apathy and willful ignorance.

He was just a little boy, not even two years old, when the second man came to his home and killed his parents. He was just a little boy when the big man took him from his godfather. He was just a little boy when he cried himself to sleep as they flew through the air on a motorcycle. He was just a little boy when he was left on a doorstep in November, a single blanket his only protection against the cold and a letter his only companion.

He was only a little boy, barely fifteen months old, when the cold, damp air stole his last breaths before the sun could rise again.

It was a kinder fate than what had awaited him, even as tragic as it was.

At least his parents knew how precious life was.

-= LP =-  
The End  
-= LP =-


End file.
